Roger Daniels: Snapped Back

Before Roger Daniels earned a single postseason honor, he had to learn how to keep his cool.

It was the fourth game of the 1987–88 season—Scotland County at home—and things were getting chippy. Roger, always a fiery competitor, had been pleading with the refs to call the extra contact. When nothing came, frustration boiled over. A few choice words slipped out. Words that earned him a technical foul, a seat on the bench, and a quiet postgame locker room after a loss that stung more than the scoreboard showed.

Coach John McKinzie didn’t pull punches. “We lost because you couldn’t control your temper,” he told Roger. “Good player or not, if it happens again, you’re on the bench for good.”

That could’ve been it. But Roger went home, told his parents the whole story and together, they came up with a plan.

A rubber band.

Simple, but effective. Snap it whenever the anger crept in. A sharp sting to remind him to stay composed. Roger tried it in practice, and it worked. His dad even found a bigger, sturdier one at work, a thick loop that Roger wore proudly on his wrist.

 Roger wearing a rubber band on is wrist

From the fifth game on, it became part of him. When the temperature of a game rose, Roger pulled back and snapped it. So hard that his forearm would turn red. But he didn’t care.

He never got another technical.

The band wasn’t just a tool. It became a symbol. Fans noticed. Teammates noticed. People in town started giving him rubber bands of all sizes and colors. And in the bleachers, folks began snapping their own in solidarity.

Then came Schuyler County later that season.

Clark County came out hot. Roger played well. But as halftime approached, the Schuyler County players noticed the marks on his wrist and pointed out the rubber band to the referee, arguing that it was jewelry, something that could break, snap, and potentially injure another player. It was a tactic to get in his head. To shake his rhythm.

At the time, officials ruled it couldn’t be worn as it was deemed potentially dangerous. Roger peeled it off.

Roger's forearm is red during the Schuyler County game

Years later, the story still stuck with people. Was that really the rule?

Missouri State High School Activities Association (MSHSAA) was asked to look it up. They pulled the old rulebook to find out.

Turns out, there was no rule against jewelry in the 1987–88 MSHSAA basketball rulebook. The official “jewelry rule” wasn’t introduced until 2002–03, stating plainly that “jewelry is prohibited.” Back in Roger’s playing days, it would have come down to the referee’s discretion, whether he deemed something dangerous to other players.

Was it fair? Maybe not. Was it effective? Not really. Clark County still won that night at Schuyler County.

But the rubber band had already done its job.

Roger finished the season without another technical. The sting of the band gave way to self-control. And in a small community, something so small became something unforgettable.

People still remember it. They remember the snap. The band. The way he’d yank it back...hard.

It might’ve hurt, but it kept him growing. Roger didn’t wear that rubber band to stand out. He wore it to stay in.

The rubber band eventually came off. The awards came later. But what mattered most was what stayed with him. Discipline, awareness, and the will to change. 

In basketball, as in life, the biggest wins sometimes come not from what you do, but from what you choose not to.